My Hero
by JDoe012998
Summary: In which Elizabeth explains the many faces of love to one James Norrington. Can be romance, friendship, family, whatever you want. K  for mention of alcohol. Nothing bad, just in passing.


**A/N: A quick one-shot I wrote a while back, in which Elizabeth explains the many faces of love to one James Norrington, and the two compare their memories of Elizabeth's life.**

**There's no real time where this is supposed to take place – just pick what seems to you an… **_**Opportune moment**_**. ;D**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it. Never have owned it. Never will own it. Cry.**

It was late at night when Elizabeth woke. She wasn't tired, despite the darkness and gentle rolling of the ship, and so rolled out of bed and padded out of her cabin, still barefoot and wearing only a very long shirt that could almost be a nightgown.

She made her way across the deck to the railing, running her fingers over the familiar wood of the _Black Pearl_. The ship creaked under her, and she let the sound sooth her fraying nerves.

The soft clang of glass falling roused her interest, and she glanced over in the direction from whence it came. She smiled sadly as, after squinting through the darkness, she recognized her James Norrington slumped at the helm.

She made her way over to him, and picked up the nearly empty rum bottle where he had dropped it.

"Mind some company?" Elizabeth asked softly, sitting next to him.

"I don't understand you, Elizabeth." James began. "I could have given you so much more than Turner. And yet you still chose him."

"Ours would have been a marriage of convenience. But Will loves me."

"Didn't it at any point occur to you that I love you as well?"

"It did. I know you think you love me. I could see it in your eyes, at the Fort, when… When we were on the Dauntless. I'm sorry for that, by the way. I know I used you. But the fact of the matter is, you don't. You love the woman you think I should be. The woman I pretended to be. But that isn't _me._"

"So you really believe in piracy, then?"

Elizabeth didn't have an immediate response for that, instead uncorking the bottle in her hand and taking a gulp.

"I believe in doing what needs to be done. If piracy is the only means of making a living, or, if you're Jack, what you love doing, then yes. Myself I rather like it out here."

"You shouldn't like it. Elizabeth, do you remember, when you were a little girl on the crossing from England, and I hid away all of your pirate stories until we reached land?"

She giggled. "I do. I hated you for it." 

"This is why I did it. I could see how the idea of piracy fascinated you. I didn't want you to become… Well, this."

"What's 'this'? A rum-stealing pirate lass?"

"Something like that."

She paused, smiling at the memories that cascaded through her mind.

"I never could stay angry with you, though. Not until I'd grown up some. Even then not for more than a day or two. You used to tell me stories, instead of my reading them. It was the only time I saw you really smile."

He laughed once at the memory. "I told those stories to frighten you."

"When has that ever worked, Commodore?"

James was silent for a moment. "I'm not a commodore any more, Elizabeth.

She continued as if he'd never spoken, "You were looking ahead in your career even then. But on the crossing form England, you were so much more light-hearted. That was before the future meant so much to you." She laughed suddenly, "Whenever I was sad about mother, I would go to that one little place along the stern to cry. You remember? You used to track me down every time, before Father could even realize I was missing. My father simply thought it funny that one of his own soldiers would take such care of a little girl. I was just glad to have such a friend."

"I do remember. I used to take you back to your cabin and sit with you for hours… I miss those times, Elizabeth."

"So do I." She repositioned herself to lean her head against his shoulder. "You know James, when you left Port Royal… There wasn't a day that I didn't worry for you. I see now I was right to."

"You had much more pressing matters to think about." Norrington said, somewhat bitterly.

"If there's one thing I've learned, James, it's that there's nothing more important than the people we care about. If I'd had an idea where to look, I'd have been in Tortuga months ago."

"I'd hope not."

"What I don't think you realize, James, is that I _do_ love you. Just… As my dearest friend. As a brother. And if you were to dig deeply enough, I believe you'd find that you don't love me as a man loves a woman, but as a brother loves the little sister he's cared for since her birth."

"I don't believe that, even for a moment, Elizabeth."

"Either way." An idea came to her suddenly, and, in a poor imitation of her once high-pitched voice, asked, "Sir, won't you _please_ tell me a story?"

The desired effect came to bear, and James laughed. The same soft, carefree laugh he'd given her when they were young.

James put an arm around her gently, and she curled more comfortably against his side.

"James, tell me a story." This time in her proper voice, closing her eyes as his fingers danced in soft patterns over her arm and shoulder.

"Which one would you like to hear?"

"It doesn't matter to me. I never really heard the words anyway. I just liked your voice." James smiled at that.

"Is that so? That explains rather a lot then, doesn't it?"

"Does it?"

"Yes." He paused a moment, watching the moonlight on her hair. "You are a fine young woman, Elizabeth."

"So you've said."

"Perhaps I should tell _your_ story."

"I do believe I heard that one somewhere before." She laughed.

"But you haven't heard it from another's point of view, have you?"

"No. No I haven't."

And so he told the story. The story of a young woman. Too free of heart to stay in the castle life had built for her. Of how she had always brought about love in the hearts of her allies. Even those who would never say as much. Of what it had felt like to watch her grow, from the little girl who had begged to go out with him on his ship in the summertime, in England, all the way to the pirate lass she was now.

When he'd finished, she shifted her weight slightly, the first move she'd made since the beginning of the tale. "Makes me wonder if I'll ever be able to go back, hearing it from someone else."

"At least there's a chance for you."

"There's time for you, too."

James shook his head. "No. There's not. I was a hero then. And now… This."

He'd looked away, but Elizabeth reached out a tentative hand to touch his cheek, saying when he looked back to her, "You're still a hero, James. You always will be."

"You're wrong."

She shook her head slowly. "You're still _my_ hero."

**A/N: Like it? Hate it? Click the little button below and tell me! You know you wanna!**


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